Whispers
by Charmisjess
Summary: After the shock of Xanatos' betrayal, an angsty, dazed QuiGon finds Master Dooku with a new job at the Temple. Qui, Dooku, lil Obi, nonslash
1. Part 1

**Author: **Charmisjess

**Timeline: **JA, after Xanatos

**Disclaimer:**If I was making any money off of this, I would be off spending it, not posting more stories! ;) Lucas owns the rights to all these characters, yes, yes, we know.

**Okay. That's all the author-note stuff I can think up at the moment. Hope you like my little ficcie!**

_Lightsaber Forms of Early Jedi and their Practical Application Today. _

Group 8-12; Master Dooku.

When Qui-Gon first saw the name on the class roster, he had to pause for a second glance. The Jedi Knight lingered in the hallway outside the room, staring in mingled disbelief and amusement.

He had been searching for a private room to spar in and had stumbled upon these classrooms by accident. The sprawling saber halls of the Temple were a maze of various rooms and gyms, each with different purposes to serve. At the far end were the larger gyms, for competitions and displays. On the opposite side were the obstacle and rope courses, tools to teach the more practical approaches to confrontations a Jedi may find himself in. Anywhere in between these ends dotted different smaller rooms, usually used as classrooms to teach Padawans and younglings lightsaber techniques and acrobatics.

Qui-Gon considered the post again. There was no way this could be a mistake, or a misprint. Hesitantly, he peered into the open archway of the room, not wanting to interrupt a class, but needing to _know..._

"Alright, split into pairs and we'll try–blast it, Vos! Do not use your lightsaber in that manner, I will not tolerate...no, no, the rest of you, _stay in your assigned groups!_" The voice that carried to him from inside the room was rather deep, refined and perhaps gentlemanly, but with a definite edge of exasperation. Qui-Gon found himself smiling as he realized that he knew the voice, in fact, knew the very tone in which the voice was lecturing. _He_ himself had been lectured before by that voice. Master Dooku's voice.

Through the doorway he could now see him clearly, swishing about the classroom amid hapless saber-waving younglings, correcting and encouraging and berating in the same breath. The class seemed to be a mixed age group, indicating perhaps that this was an interest-based class rather than one teaching a required curriculum, and indeed, there didn't seem to be a great deal of structure to it. The students themselves were likewise a motley lot, with everyone amusing themself in their own way, few actually listening to the lesson.

The dark haired boy Dooku had reprimanded was now swinging his lightsaber around his head in dizzying patterns, while his partner, a brown headed younger boy, tried to avoid decapitation. A few of the students had begun to either practice form, or play-fight, Qui-Gon could not tell which. In the corner, a little Mon Calamarian girl was crying. In all, there were about ten of them trying their best to complete hopelessly complex moves on one another, whilst Dooku flitted around, grand overseer of the chaos.

Master Dooku the initiate lightsaber instructor. Now Qui-Gon had seen it all.

"Eerin, for the sake of the force, if this class is too much for you, please leave." The little girl in the corner only cried harder at his tone. Dooku sighed distractedly, turning away with somewhat of a defeated air. He seemed to be muttering to himself. " Honestly, if the Council thinks that this group is going to ever learn _anything_ like this, they're..."

But what the Council were, Qui-Gon would never find out, for then Dooku abruptly whirled and stalked off to check on two girls locked in combat on the other side of the room.

Qui-Gon smiled to himself. He had come down to the saber halls to relax and work off some stress, but he hadn't ever counted on the veritable goldmine of amusement he would find here. Dooku had never done particularly well with children, and ten of them was clearly too many for him. He crept a bit further into the room; the overwhelmed Master hadn't sensed him yet. Dooku's back was turned as he consulted an older Togruta girl on her lightsaber technique.

"Padawan Ti, move _away_ from your partner, you can't very well swing from that close...and you're holding your saber too tightly...here, let me see, what grip are you using?"

Qui-Gon was almost upon Dooku now. He couldn't believe that his former Master was letting him sneak up on him like this, usually Dooku would have already sensed him. Some of the students were beginning to pause in their spars to watch. He drew closer still. Now he was just a few feet away from where Dooku was still showing off the proper handgrip with tightly forced patience.

"No, move your hands up a little further, it will give you better control for the more precise moves. Not like that, bit further—oh blast it, Quinlan Vos, I thought I told you to stop that! And Eerin, for the last time, stop crying!"

Slowly, Qui-Gon stretched out a hand and tugged insistently on the back of Dooku's robe. "Ah, Master Dooku?"

Dooku spun around wildly, his eyes narrowed, his voice thunderous. "_What is it now_!" The Master suddenly froze, mid-explosion. He had recognized him.

"Qui-Gon Jinn."

Qui-Gon couldn't help it. The shocked surprise suspended on Dooku's weary face was too much. He ginned broadly for a moment, and then started to laugh. "Hello!"

"Oh...it's been a long time," Dooku murmured faintly. For a second, Qui-Gon couldn't tell if he were about to hug him, laugh, or collapse. He felt Dooku reach out for him, not physically as an old friend might, but mentally, through the force, brushing around him in a friendly, familiar way. Dooku's energetic force-touch was the same as it had always been when he was a Padawan; bright, deep, and stirring, a feeling like white-silver moonlight on a clear night. Qui-Gon reached out himself, meeting his mind halfway, and their Master/Padawan bond pulsed with renewed strength.

"It has," Qui-Gon agreed, still smiling. On impulse, he reached up and hugged Dooku around the neck. He felt Dooku stiffen a little, but his old Master didn't pull away either. "I've really missed you, Master."

"So, what brings you to the Temple?" Dooku asked briskly, breaking the embrace after an awkward moment of silence. "I expected you to be still dragging that boy of yours from one end of the galaxy to the other in the interest of learning. Or...has he been already knighted?"

Qui-Gon's smile faded away, as it had a tendency of doing, of late. His pleasure at seeing Dooku again had driven Xanatos from his mind for a whole...ten moments, perhaps. He stalled, glancing around the room questioningly. "I could ask you the same question. I haven't seen you hanging about the Temple in years. What are you doing here?"

"Well," Dooku smirked, obviously noticing Qui-Gon's hedge but saying nothing. "for lack of a better term, you could say that I'm teaching. Apparently," his lips gave a wry twist. "I am one of the last form

II patrons of the Order."

"Ah, so you suddenly feel the urge to impart your vast knowledge on our younger generations?" Qui-Gon watched the brown-haired boy throw himself out of the way of his wildly spinning partner's blade just in time to miss losing half a head.

"Well, after your disappointing pursuit of form IV, there was hardly any other way to advocate for my form's survival in the Order of today." Dooku mumbled, begrudgingly. "But no, there's more to it than that. My new, ah, teaching position is a long story...yes, very, very long story, I'll spare you the tedious details."

Qui-Gon laughed softly. It wasn't really that long of a story, if the rumors he had heard about Dooku getting on the Council's bad side again were true. It appeared that Dooku had upset the Council so thoroughly they had gone as far as to ground him to the Temple. It wasn't as if it would be the first time. Idly, he wondered what his Master had done in this instance. "I'm sure it's an entertaining tale, you'll have to tell me sometime."

Dooku nodded, looking sheepish, or at least as far as he ever got to the emotion of sheepishness. "Will you be staying here long?"

"For a little while, at least." Qui-Gon said slowly, not exactly sure himself. He had to tell his Master about Xanatos sometime, and judging from the uncertain, almost guilty look in Dooku's eyes he could tell he probably had already heard troubling rumors about an incident on Telos. "I have a lot to tell you."

Dooku opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a sudden squeal of pain from the direction of the students.

With the air of a tattletale, the Togruta girl was instantly at Dooku's side, her dark eyes full of concern, pointing behind her wildly. "Master Dooku! Master Dooku, Quinlan Vos hit Obi-Wan Kenobi with his lightsaber!"

"Oh-" Dooku gasped, whirling back on his class as if he had just remembered that they were there. Quinlan Vos was staring mortified at his sparring partner, the little brown-haired boy, who was sprawled on the ground shuddering with suppressed tears and clutching at his leg. Swallowing quickly, Dooku nodded to the girl. "oh...ah, thank you, Shaak Ti. Thank you very much." The little Mon Calamarian in the corner joined in all the louder with Obi-Wan's quiet crying, and suddenly the room was full of wailing. Dooku looked frankly bewildered.

Qui-Gon strode forward and knelt besides the boy, stretching out a hand to comfort him. Dooku hurried up behind him, turning to Quinlan. "Did...you...what happened?"

The older boy looked at the ground, horrified. "I...I just hit him in the legs...I didn't mean to hurt him, I thought he would..."

"Wait..." Dooku looked strangely thoughtful as he regarded Quinlan. "You cut out at his legs? Really!" He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I think you're actually starting to get the hang of form II."

"Dooku..." Qui-Gon murmured as he studied Obi-Wan's burnt leg carefully. The children's sabers had been turned down to a very low setting for sparring, but the burn was still deep and painful. The boy was still trying bravely not to cry outright. "he needs to go to the Healers."

"Oh," Dooku nodded, turning back to the injured boy uncertainly. "of course, of course." He glanced around a moment, before finally settling his gaze on Shaak Ti. "Ah, Padawan Ti, would you escort Kenobi to the Healer's Wing?"

The girl nodded quickly, her banded head-tails waving slightly as she stooped to help Obi-Wan up. They limped out the door, the boy still whimpering softly. The remainder of the class watched nervously, having paused in their sparring at the commotion.

Dooku regarded them all somewhat awkwardly. He cleared his throat for attention, although judging from the anxious silence, he hardly needed to have. "Alright...the rest of you are dismissed. Class is over for today." He motioned his hand toward the door, as if to wave them away.

Qui-Gon smiled as he watched the students head for the door, clumping together in little groups and chatting with quiet excitement. He supposed the initiates had never been treated to a class as eventful as this before. Maybe, he could imagine them thinking, there really was something to this form II after all.

Dooku's eyes were on the door as well, following them out. He chewed his lip slightly in thought. "Perhaps I ought to have supervised more thoroughly."

"Perhaps," Qui-Gon answered, with a determinedly neutral air.


	2. Part 2

**Thank you to all your awesome reviewers:) Your comments made my day. Here's part two, I hope you enjoy it! **

Dooku's eyes were on the door as well, following them out. He chewed his lip slightly in thought. "Perhaps I ought to have supervised more thoroughly."

"Perhaps," Qui-Gon answered, with a determinedly neutral air.

Dooku turned away, with a sort of resigned sigh, and began to pick up some of the training equipment that had become scattered about the class room during the activities. "Teaching this class was a horrible idea from the start." He paused, a padded chest-guard dangling from one hand, his expression vindictive. "Master Windu's idea, actually. Mace Windu. Just made the Council, youngest member in ages, ambitious, absolutely sickening. And even worse," Dooku made a wry face, as if he had just tasted something sour. "He's my friend."

Qui-Gon grinned somewhat impishly at him. "Trouble with the Council, hm?"

"You don't know the half of it." Dooku muttered darkly.

"Yes, I'd heard that you and Yoda had a bit of a family row." Qui-Gon commented, hesitantly. That hadn't been exactly what he had heard, but he decided that partial truth would serve best, and plunged on. "In fact, that's...part of my reason for seeking you out, I wanted to ask if..."

"You wanted to ask if what?" Dooku suddenly whirled on him, his expression twisted oddly between a forced amusement and clear anger. "Been listening to nasty gossip about your dear old Master?"

Qui-Gon stared at him, surprised. Before, Dooku's perpetual disregard for the Council's opinion had been something of a running joke between them. Dooku possessed a natural self-assurance so strong that the Council's constant disapproval of his ideas and methods were less upsetting to him than simply tiresome. However, that had been the Dooku Qui-Gon had known as a young Knight. It seemed his Master's feelings on the subject had bittered over the years.

The silence had grown rather awkward. Qui-Gon forced his face into neutrality and answered, quietly. "I only wanted to ask if it was true that you were up for consideration as a Council Member."

Dooku stared at him, his eyes boring into him with cold fury for a full, uncomfortable moment. Then it was if the Master's anger swelled, burst, and abruptly deflated. Dooku burst out laughing. "Qui-Gon, you've always been an absolutely terrible liar." He paced across the room, dropped the equipment into an untidy pile on the mats, and sank into a chair, wearily amused. "I'm sorry, child. Right now things...things between the Council and I are not at their best. I rather suspect you've heard rumors that I'm confined here at the Temple for a period to ah, 'meditate on my actions and choices,' as they put it..." He pulled a skeptical, almost amused face, but Qui-Gon could see the tightness under his skin.

"What was it that you did?" Qui-Gon asked hesitantly, curious, but not wanting to provoke his Master's new strange sensitivity on the subject.

Dooku shook his head distractedly, stretching out in his chair. "I disapproved of a mission they were trying to send me on. Some other things too, trivial matters, really." He raised his eyebrows dismally, but did not elaborate.

Qui-Gon watched him for a moment, as Dooku brooded in silence in his chair. A sudden idea had occurred to him, and he spoke it out loud before allowing time to second guess himself. "Dooku, you ought to take another Padawan."

Dooku blinked. "What?"

"Take another Padawan," Qui-Gon repeated, beginning to warm up to the thought. "It would give you something to focus on, to work at, to keep you company..." _...keep you out of trouble, _he wanted to add, but thought better of it. Dooku locked up alone at the Temple was a recipe for disaster, Qui-Gon knew his old Master well enough to know that. He was surprised Yoda had allowed them to ground him. It was in Dooku's very personality not to do well with idle time, and keeping him stewing on Coruscant, the heart of the corrupt Senate he despised so much these days seemed like a very bad idea. A Padawan would give him a fresh perspective, a greater cause to work for, and a legitimate excuse to get away from Coruscant.

Dooku however, looked completely baffled, almost bemused by the idea, as if Qui-Gon were making a joke. "A Padawan? Qui-Gon, that's possibly the _very_ last thing I need at the moment. I think perhaps you're reading into this teaching thing a bit more than necessary. I hope you do realize, of course, that this is not a position I volunteered for..."

Qui-Gon cut him off. "But you're doing a good job at it, aren't you? As skilled a Master as you are, you almost have an obligation to the Temple to..."

"We are not saints, but seekers." Dooku quoted, smirking. "Flattery does not change my mind about this." He rose out of his chair, abruptly. "I'm going down to the dining hall for a cup of stimcaf." He stalked out, in typical Dooku I'm-going-here-you-can-go-whatever-you-like fashion.

Qui-Gon trailed after him, out into the hallway, thinking quickly. "What about that Vos-clan boy? Quinlan? You liked his form, didn't you?"

"Vos?" Dooku glanced over his shoulder at him, still looking bemused at the whole idea. "The child is fearful, angry and perhaps less stable than a supernova. Furthermore, Master Tholme already has his eye on him...and, might I add, my sincerest condolences to them both."

"Alright. Then, what about the little one who got hurt, with the brown hair? How about him?"

"What, Kenobi?" Dooku snorted. "Agricorps fodder."

"That's a bit harsh."

"...and he's far too young to be taken. He's the smallest of my group."

Qui-Gon frowned at his Master's back. "He's what, nine? Ten? I was eleven when you took me."

"You were not."

"Yes, I was," Qui-Gon insisted, breaking into a light jog to keep up with Dooku's stride. "I was eleven and six months exactly."

"Well, I didn't know that at the time, or I wouldn't have ever taken you." Dooku tried to look severe, but Qui-Gon knew he was only playing with him now.

The Master seemed to sober a little, pausing at the turbo lift to regard his former Padawan with the lofty air of lecture. "Anyway, Qui-Gon, you know better than anyone that I am by no means an easy tutor. For better or worse, I'm hardly a nursemaid, or a babysitter. I do not favor simple missions. A child like that could easily be killed..."

Qui-Gon smiled reluctantly. "I think you're being a bit melodramatic."

"And I think that you're overstepping your bounds." Dooku was suddenly deadly serious. "Do not presume to tell me how to live my life, Qui-Gon Jinn." Then, with sudden venom. "...especially not _you_."


	3. Part 3

Okay, okay! Last final and end chapter! runs around Thanks to you awesome people for sticking with me, I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it. :) Just a quick note for some people…

**The Dancing Cavalier--**Oh, hehe, yes, Dook can be pretty cruel when he wants to be. Thanks for reading!

**Child-of-the-Dawn--**Thanks:)

**ally127--**Oh, I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for reading!

---

_And to the conclusion…_

_---_

"And I think that you're overstepping your bounds." Dooku was suddenly deadly serious. "Do not presume to tell me how to live my life, Qui-Gon Jinn." Then, with sudden venom. "...especially not _you_."

Abruptly, the turbo lift in front of them hissed open to reveal a startled-looking Knight, who stared at Qui-Gon first, and then Dooku, before brushing past them. Dooku rolled his eyes and stepped inside.

"Me?" Qui-Gon swallowed. Dooku's words had made him feel oddly numb. Not angry, not offended at the sudden attack, but simply empty. As if the little woven cord of denial, acceptance, whatever he had been clinging to had just snapped away, leaving him dangling into space. "What do you mean by that?" He asked, his tone calm but his voice itself shaking. And there it was. He knew exactly what Dooku had meant. He didn't really know why he was bothering to ask.

Dooku met his eyes regretfully, shaking his head slightly before hitting the close button on the lift. The lift's doors started to slide shut.

_So it's goodbye again._

"What do you mean by that!" Qui-Gon yelled suddenly, surprising himself with the intensity of his own emotion. No. Dooku wasn't doing this to him. He wasn't eighteen anymore. He didn't have to take this. He hadn't come through all of the trials and pain of the last few months to be emotionally blackmailed by the likes of _Dooku, _because the former Master was having a bad day.

He shoved his hand through the thin crack the closing doors hadn't yet swallowed up. Immediately, the automatic stop feature swished the doors back open, revealing yet again, Dooku.

"You ought to be careful, Qui-Gon." From inside the lift, Dooku raised an elegant eyebrow at him, making him feel, as always, thoroughly patronized. "Excessive shouting leads to the dark side. Or..." His tone was painfully dry. "...so I'm told."

Qui-Gon said nothing. He simply stared at him.

"Oh, come on." Dooku finally gestured into the lift, with a little sigh. "I didn't mean anything by it. I'm only implying that...well..." He seemed to consider, and then settle on a half-truth, in the same fashion that Qui-Gon had hedged about the Council rumors. "You would have to be hopelessly naive to think that I am the only subject of gossip in this Temple."

"Gossip?" Qui-Gon said, meeting Dooku's eyes with steel. "You mean about Xanatos? About what happened on Telos?"

Dooku nodded, for the first time quiet.

For a moment there was silence between them. Then Dooku exhaled, slowly, shakily. Qui-Gon didn't need to actually speak it. He knew. The look in his eyes said it all.

"So it's true?" Dooku breathed. His eyes not leaving Qui-Gon's, he absently depressed the lift's button for the next floor. "Xanatos…I hadn't really believed…I...had hoped they were only whispers...I thought..."

Qui-Gon nodded.

"Oh, child."

All the tension between them sucked in and then broke apart, storm clouds scattering after their squall is spent. For an instant, Qui-Gon had the wild desire to cry. To simply fall to pieces here in the lift, and tell Dooku everything: everything Xanatos had screamed at him, and done, and all the trembling little fears that had been chewing him up inside ever since. Some vestige of his apprenticeship had left a safe feeling associated with Dooku; for all his faults, he was all that Qui-Gon had.

But Dooku really wasn't that safe. Not anymore. And the moment passed.

"I know how you feel." Dooku was saying quietly, looking him directly in the eyes for perhaps the first time. "You remember Synian?"

"It isn't the same." Qui-Gon said shortly, turning away. He didn't want to hear about Dooku's perfect, first, dead Padawan now. He didn't really want to be told that anyone had ever felt exactly like he did at that moment, either. "It isn't the same at all. Synian died as a Jedi, he loved you, and it was a tragedy...Xanatos...he...Master, he…"

"But when it comes down to the matter," Dooku spoke over him, not angrily, or with his usual interrupting tone, but firmly, as a Master. "We both lost a Padawan."

Qui-Gon was silent for a long moment. The silence stretched out between them, mounting. Finally it deflated with a soft sigh. "...he's still alive though, Master."

"What?"

"Xanatos." Qui-Gon stepped out of the lift as it whooshed to a halt. He whirled through the scene in his mind for the thousandth time since he had left Telos. Since he had left Xan. "He's still alive, he's still out there, somewhere." He turned on Dooku, his expression heartbroken. "I couldn't do it. I needed to kill him, I should have killed him, maybe even a little part of me wanted to...but I couldn't." He rubbed his eyes wearily. "Please tell me, Master, did I act wrongly?"

"Wrongly? I do not think so, child. You acted out of your heart, despite the consequences. That has always been your way." Dooku murmured, after a few moments are thought. "There is no shortage of death in the name of justice in our Order these days, Qui-Gon. Sometimes a little grace can go a very long way."

"You think Xanatos will come back from the dark?"

"Not necessarily. But I think you'll be a stronger light for all of it."

Qui-Gon nodded. It was odd. He wanted to believe Dooku. Maybe he was right. He didn't know. But somewhere through his Master's words, he could see a little bit of daylight, real or imagined.

"Do you know what I think?" Dooku asked, smiling a little.

"What?" Qui-Gon looked up uncertainly.

"I think you ought to take another Padawan."

Qui-Gon laughed shortly, holding the door for Dooku. "No. I haven't enough of me left whole to attempt another round with one."

"That's what I said too. You'll change your mind. You do make a fine Master, Qui-Gon, despite what you may presently think."

"Thank you, Master." Qui-Gon felt an odd rush of affection for Dooku, and smiled at him. It was a strange thing, these days, for him to smile, and he appreciated Dooku's ability to draw it out of him. "In a sort of odd way, so do you. I really have missed you, you know."

"A person can't hear that enough times," Dooku smirked.

The dining hall around them was mostly empty, but a few Padawan's looked up as they passed. Apparently, word about Dooku's free-for-all lesson had spread quickly. Dooku ignored them, and headed toward the food bar. The droids usually set up a beverage area in between meal times for Jedi who were on the move.

Dooku poured himself a cup and sighed loftily. "So what about Shaak Ti? She seemed to have some of your infernal form IV tendencies: unnecessary spins…acrobats…the like."

"She already has a Master..." Qui-Gon murmured as he leaned around Dooku to get some tea for himself.

"Alright, well, you liked Kenobi. The ultimate living force charity project, no?"

"Master, I'm not taking another Padawan." Qui-Gon shook his head gently, stirring in sweetener. "And, about Obi-Wan…that's awful of you to say. He wasn't so bad."

"You're quick to defend him, I'll note. You were before, too." Dooku raised his cup to his lips to hide a smile. "I'm right."

"No, you're _mean_."

"I foresee a bond, Qui-Gon…"

Qui-Gon snorted. "You've always been a terrible fortune teller."

Dooku's eyebrows arched dramatically and he set his cup carefully down. "Do not make light of that which you cannot comprehend, child."

Qui-Gon, however, didn't rise to his Master's comment. His attention was on the softly chirping comlink on his belt. Frowning, he put his cup down as well and plucked the device off. He studied the flashing code screen absently. "Oh…"

"What is it?"

"Nothing, really." Qui-Gon smiled, pocketing the still-beeping comlink. "It's just that I'm supposed to be in audience with the Council right now. I only now remembered."

"Ah," Dooku said, uncertainly. He tilted his head a bit as he regarded his friend. "You ought to go, then."

"I suppose." Qui-Gon nodded to him. "They usually appreciate that."

There was an awkward silence.

"If you hear any more wonderful rumors about me, do drop a line." Dooku said, looking wearily amused. "It would be nice for me to hear at least what I've been doing."

"Likewise, Master." Qui-Gon smiled, and clapped him briefly on the shoulder. He realized that he was as tall as Dooku now. It was strange that he had never noticed before. "The Council seems to be under the impression that I follow in your footsteps."

"What an awful thing to think of someone!" Dooku started toward the door. "Well, go prove them wrong."

Qui-Gon lingered. He realized that he didn't know when he would see Dooku again. After being Knighted, he only saw his old Master rarely. Dooku would materialize back into his life every few years, utterly demolish all Qui-Gon's predispositions about life, and then fade back into the darkness between the stars as suddenly as he had come. He was almost starting to get used to it. "Will I see you again anytime soon?"

Dooku made a small gesture that might have been a shrug. "You'll know where to find me."

Qui-Gon nodded, and followed Dooku through the doorway. So that was it.

"Oh, and Qui-Gon?" Dooku paused, suddenly, turning back to look at his former Padawan for a moment. His eyes were strangely soft.

He glanced back. "Yes?"

"It'll be alright, child."

_**End**_

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…_and, for you JA fans out there, it was…sort of. :) Thanks for reading!_


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